


Hey Asshole

by SapphoIsBurning



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Airplanes, Dean loves paranormal shit, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Texting, turbulence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7234351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sami spend some quality time together on a transatlantic flight. It's hard to tell who's flirting with whom by the end, but ten hours is a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Asshole

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Wrassleslash Library's first prompt contest, and [published anonymously there earlier this month](http://wrassleslashlibrary.tumblr.com/post/145558231820/hey-asshole). The prompt was "Hey asshole quit kicking the back of my seat its a 10 hour flight." I did not win the contest, but I'm still pretty happy with this fic.

Sami’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He had boarded but people were still milling around, and the cabin door was not yet shut. He twisted in his airplane seat beneath his seat belt to retrieve it.

“Hey asshole quit kicking the back of my seat its a 10 hour flight.” Sent 4:21 pm from a number he didn’t recognize, no one who was in his contacts.

Sami hadn’t noticed who sat down in front of him, but that person had both noticed Sami and somehow had his phone number. Sami had been in and out of the seat-back pocket and, okay, maybe had nudged the seat a few times, but “kicking” was awfully strong, wasn’t it? He couldn’t see the back of the head of the person in front of him. He leaned to the right and left but couldn’t see anything.

He texted back: “Sorry. Who is this?”

“Twenty qeustions.” Sent 4:22.

Sami frowned. “Do I work with you?”

“yes.”

“Are you a guy?”

yes

Sami thought hard. “Do you wrestle?”

“Most people would call it that”

This is silly, Sami thought to himself. He unbuckled his seat belt and stood up to look at who was in front of him, but he found that the seat was empty.

He texted the number. “There’s no one sitting in front of me! Who is this???” He threw in a ghost emoji for good measure. Now that he was standing, he looked around the plane at the rest of the superstars who were on this flight to London for the European tour. He saw Dolph engrossed in a paperback novel and Roman and his cousins leaning into the aisle to talk to each other. Sasha and E were sitting next together and lost in conversation, and he saw the top of Sheamus’s hair sticking up over a seat in the back.

After a long minute, his phone buzzed again. “I thought this was Sheamus???”

“This is Sami.”

Dean Ambrose appeared from out of the seat in front of Sheamus’s hair, looking furious. He gave Sheamus a withering look and they exchanged some words Sami couldn’t catch, but then Dean grabbed a beat-up backpack and stomped up to the front of the plane where Sami was.

“I am not fucking...sorry, I am not sitting in front of that guy for ten damn hours on a plane to London, no amount of beer is going to get me through that. God.” As Dean said that to Sami, a woman settled down into the seat in front of Sami.

“Ugh, looks like that one is taken, but you can see if the flight attendant can reseat you. That’s a thing.”

Dean scowled and headed up to the front of the plane, edging past people trying to fit their luggage into the overhead, to get to the flight attendants, a young man with elaborately styled hair and a serious-looking woman. Sami saw Dean pulling a creased and folded boarding pass out of his pocket and holding it out to the man. He looked at it and pointed back to Sami. Dean nodded and gestured vigorously. The man raised an eyebrow but took Dean’s boarding pass, wrote something on it in marker, and handed it back.

Sami cocked an eyebrow as Dean stomped back over to him.

“Only open seat is in the middle next to you,” Dean said.

“Lucky me,” Sami said.

“I might have had to embellish a little to get my seat moved.” Dean blushed a little. “I said you were my boyfriend. Oh, also, sorry I called you an asshole.”

Sami felt himself getting a little red. If only, he thought to himself. Dean was cute, a little off his rocker but not any more so than Sami on an anxiety day, but ostensibly straight. Hmm.

“I didn’t even know you texted,” Sami said, shrugging. He let Dean past him to take the middle seat, the other side of a business woman with noise-cancelling headphones in a green suit studying an iPad intensely. Then Sami sat down.

Dean held out a new-generation iPhone, dangling it like something suspicious. “I just got this. I don’t know what it does. Um, Claudio helped me set it up but I’m seeing maybe I was a little too trusting.”

Sami laughed. “A little. Who else have you texted? Are you sure they went to the right places?”

Dean looked stricken. “Maybe that explains why nobody would talk to me Monday night.”

The flight attendants began making announcements about getting ready for departure, seat belts, shutting doors, and more usual plane stuff.

Sami reached under the seat in front of him to fish out a snack, but ended up elbowing Dean in the solar plexus.

“Hey asshole,” Dean started, laughing.

“That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend. Want a granola bar?” Sami asked. He unzipped his bag and a mound of snacks started to fall out.

“Jesus, do you have the whole concession stand in there?” Dean asked.

“I am just very particular about my food, and I don’t know if you’ve heard, but this is a ten hour flight.”

Dean frowned. “Yeah. Not real pumped about that.”

“There’s always movies,” Sami shrugged.

“I can’t watch ten hours of movies.”

“At least you’ve got better company now,” Sami said gently, smiling a little bit. He did like Dean’s company, maybe more than the would admit.

Dean grinned. “You’ll do in a pinch.”

“I’m not just good company. I’m good _enough_.”

“ _Ladies and gentlemen, the boarding door is now closed, please turn all electronic devices to airplane mode. Large electronic devices like laptop computers must be turned off and stowed until we reach cruising altitude. We will be coming about the cabin to check that everyone’s devices are in compliance and that all seatbelts are fastened for departure.”_

Dean reached down to grab his seat belt buckle, but couldn’t find it. “Zayn. You mind. Um.” Sami arched up so Dean could reach under him without groping his ass, but he managed to graze it with his hand anyway. “Sorry,” Dean said. Sami felt unsettled with how close they were. Sami tried not to invade Dean’s space but both of their long legs were folded up and Sami’s width edged into Dean.

“Armrest down or up?” Sami asked.

“Ugh, it always digs into me. I don’t care but we can leave it up if you want.”

“As long as you can handle, um, a gentle elbowing.”

“Bring it.”

Their seat belts slipped into place with two clicks. Sami twisted back and forth trying to settle in.

“Sir, can you turn your device to airplane mode?” The female flight attendant stood with a device in her hand, and she looked pointedly at Dean.

“Absolutely, ma’am, I will do that.” He hit the home button on his phone, then stared at his lock screen for a minute. He tried one four digit number. The screen bounced as it rejected the wrong password. He tried again, and it was accepted. He huffed a sigh as he stared at the phone, holding it at arm’s length, then close to his face.

“Swipe up from the bottom edge, then tap the button that has an airplane on it,” Sami said casually.

“I know how to do it,” Dean snapped, as he swiped and swiped. His phone started playing “Carry On My Wayward Son,” loudly.

Sami snatched the phone. He flicked his finger, paused the music, and switched on the airplane mode setting in one practiced motion. He held it back out to Dean without making eye contact.

“Well what the hell am I going to do with it if it’s not on the internet,” Dean said.

“You can still play your music or games or whatever,” Sami said. He looked up. Dean was biting his cheek and grimacing. Sami tucked the phone into Dean’s hand and patted it. “Or put it away.”

A safety video sprang to life on the screens in front of them. Sami had seen it a million times, and he wasn’t in an exit row, so he closed his eyes and tried to relax.

“Sami, hey Sami.” Dean tapped him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, Dean?” he said without opening his eyes.

“Has the cabin ever lost pressure while you’ve been on a plane?” Dean asked.

“Never,” Sami said.

“You ever wonder what that would be like?”

Sami sighed. “Not intentionally.”

“They say secure your oxygen mask before assisting others, but like, is there a rush? How much air do you think is rushing out of the plane? How much time do you have to get the mask on before you suffocate, know what I’m saying?”

Sami leveled Dean with a withering glance. “We can ask the flight attendant if you want. I’m sure she’d be really thrilled to answer that question.”

“Good idea.” Dean pushed the call button on the console above them, and Sami clutched his head.

The plane began to take off. They both tensed as the engines whined and they shot forward, accelerating and going up into the air. Dean chomped loudly on a piece of gum or three he had pulled out of a smashed pouch from his pocket.

A few minutes later, the male flight attendant came by to check on them. Sami saw his nametag read “Curtis.”

“Did one of you folks need something?” he asked.

“Yeah, my boyfriend here thought I should ask you my question, what happens when the oxygen masks fall? Do we get sucked out of the plane, or like, is there no air at all or like a little air? How much time do you have to put your mask on before you die, is what I’m asking.”

The flight attendant took a patient breath. “If the cabin loses pressure, there will be enough residual air to breathe while you secure an oxygen mask, but it’s important to get it on as quickly as possible. Does that answer your question?”

“Yes!” Sami jumped in. He gave Dean a look. “We just like to be prepared.”

“Always prepared, this one!” Dean said, patting Sami’s thigh. “Even brought his own snacks. Want a granola bar?”

Curtis chuckled. “I’m good, thank you. We’ll be back with beverage service once we’re cruising, alright?” He turned and walked back to the front of the cabin.

“What do you want to do while we’re in London?” Dean asked.

“Um. My only plan right now is to go take a selfie at Platform 9 and ¾,” Sami said, shrugging.

“How do you feel about ghost hunting?” Dean asked.

“...not sure I feel any particular way about it. Why.”

“Ghost tours, man. There are so many ghosts in London. I’ve got all my equipment. I’ve got my EMF meter in my checked bag except I had to take the batteries out, I’ve got my dowsing rod, everything. The portable Ouija board.”

“They make portable Ouija boards?”

“I _made_ a portable Ouija board,” Dean said, preening.

“I didn’t know you were crafty.”

“I’m super fucking crafty, you don’t even know. I own two hot glue guns. Low temp and high temp, dude.”

“Bring that to a hardcore match,” Sami laughed.

“Dude. That would fucking suck. But they have to be plugged in.”

“So you just going to wander around London hoping a ghost jumps out at you, or do you have some hot spots to visit?”

“So many spots. Trying to get off the beaten path. We’ll see how far I get. You wanna come?”

Sami thought for a minute. “Buy me dinner first?”

“It’s a date,” Dean said, smiling with delight and without a trace of irony. Sami tried to ignore the creep of excitement in his chest. It wasn’t actually a date. Probably. But it might be nice, he thought to himself as he retrieved a chocolate granola bar, a bag of peanut M&Ms, two pieces of string cheese, some dried apricots, and a bag of beef jerky from his bag. He tried to stash it all in the seat pocket but it wouldn’t fit, so he used Dean’s. He didn’t seem to notice.

They reached cruising altitude. The beverage cart came, and Dean bought as many beers as they would let him, and Sami got a Coke.

“Jerky?” Sami asked Dean.

“...fine.” Dean reached into the bag and grabbed a piece. He shoved the whole thing into his mouth then rummaged around in the pockets of his hoodie before he pulled out a tangled pair of earbuds. He wiped his hands on his jeans and then set to untangling the cord.

Sami unfolded his headphones and hung them around his neck.

Dean struggled with the cord. It seemed like it might be getting more knotted as he turned it over and over in his hands and fed the end in and out.

Sami realize he was staring, but Dean didn’t notice. Dean was cute when he was concentrating. Not as cute as when he smiled and showed off that dimple, but still pretty cute.

“Can I help,” Sami said.

“Why are you so helpful?!” Dean said in frustration. He thrust the earphones at Sami, who went to work getting them sorted. “Is this a Canadian thing?”

“Why do you always have to bring that up?” Sami asked.

“You’re too nice, it’s just weird.”

“Okay, how about, ‘hey asshole, can I help’?” Sami said as he picked out a knot. “What the hell did you even do to these?”

“Just in my pocket for a while, I don’t know!”

“This is an epic tangle. This is the Gordian knot of WWE.”

“Is _that_ a Canadian thing?”

“It’s an ancient Greek thing, I think. Here.” He shook out the last tangle and handed the earbuds back over to Dean, who took them.

“Thanks, asshole.” Dean looked up and a sudden grin lit up his face. Sami couldn’t help but smile back.

“No problem, asshole.”

They both plugged their headphones in and tried to space out to movies. Sami worked his way through the all the food groups he had dug out, and in short order. He snooped on what Dean was watching: The Goonies. Seemed in-character. Sami put on Bridesmaids, though it was surely the edited-for-content airplane version.

Time dragged. Sami ate ice cubes, then crumpled snack wrappers and shoved them into his empty plastic cup. The movie finished. He put on another: Moneyball, sure, a sports movie would work. It was mostly talking, and not very much sports, and so he fell asleep. When he woke up, real food was coming around.

“What is this fancy shit?” Dean whispered to him.

“Dude, this is one of the good airlines. We get like, appetizers and desserts and free beer with dinner if you want it.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “I’ve been missing out.” He paused. “Then why the hell did you bring your whole snack drawer with you?”

Sami puffed out his cheeks. “I just like having my own snacks, okay? It makes me less anxious.”

They ate their way through some extremely decent airline food, trying and failing to keep their elbows and knees out of each other’s space.

“If I’m your boyfriend, can I have your free beer?” Dean asked.

“I’ll trade you for your dessert, _lover_.” Sami cocked an eyebrow.

“Done,” Dean said, “as long as you throw in some more of that jerky.”

“You want teriyaki or regular? I got a bunch more in there.”

Dean shook his head. “This week on Hoarders,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a tiny smile.

After they ate, they spaced out some more. Sami read some more of a book on his phone, a romance novel if he really had to admit it, and hoped Dean wouldn’t screen creep during the steamy parts.

But Dean fell asleep, so that wasn’t really a problem. The flight attendant handed out blankets, but Dean was completely out, so Sami took one and tucked it around over him.

“You two are so cute together,” the flight attendant said. Her nametag read “Carol”.

“Thank you, Carol,” Sami said. “We are very happy.” It wasn’t a lie, for the most part.

In his sleep, Dean shifted more and more into Sami’s space, but Sami didn’t mind it. He wedged a pillow between Dean’s head and his own shoulder. Eventually, he draped his own blanket over both of them and drifted off too, despite the discomfort of being folded up in a metal box hurtling through space.

They woke up with a start. The plane bounced hard, in the air. Dean’s head snapped up, leaving a string of drool on the pillow (which Sami hoped was disposable).

Dean’s left hand found Sami’s right underneath the blanket and on instinct they grabbed at each other. They were both breathing hard.

“It’s just turbulence,” Dean said out loud.

“Just pockets of rough air. This is normal,” Sami said.

The pilot came over the loudspeaker to say that it was turbulence, pockets of rough air, and completely normal, and that the fasten seat belts sign was now on and they should return to their seats.

“Could have told you that, buddy,” Dean said through clenched teeth.

“I hate this,” Sami said, rattled in his seat by the shaking plane. They were both flung forward against their seatbelts several times, and the plane dropped, sending them upward and out of their seats. The woman to the right of them seemed to be taking it all pretty well, but Sami felt the blood drain from his face. He rubbed his thumb across Dean’s knuckles. “I hate this, but it’s worth it, because we get to wrestle all over the world. Can you believe this is our job?”

Dean took a deep shaky breath and looked over at Sami. “Zayn.” He shook his head. But that was all he said.

The plane lurched a few more times before settling down. Sami was still holding Dean’s hand under the blanket, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to let go. Dean didn’t pull away.

Sami huffed a breath in through his nose. He casually leaned his body against Dean’s. “Wanna watch something together?” he asked. He turned his head, and his face was very close to Dean’s. The other man smiled conspiratorially.

“How do you feel about Frozen?” he asked.

“Elsa is my jam,” Sami said. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Who do I have to tell?” Dean asked, rolling his eyes, but that comment made Sami feel a little sad inside. Dean finally withdrew his hand so Sami could punch some buttons on the screen.

The rest of the flight passed uneventfully, and while Dean didn’t hold Sami’s hand any more, Sami did catch him lip syncing absent-mindedly to “Let It Go” and he felt like he had learned a precious secret.

After some shuffling to go use the tiny horrible airplane bathroom, and another round of snacks out of Sami’s bag, and then _another_ round of snacks that the flight attendants passed around in little red bags, finally, finally they landed at Heathrow.

Hauling their stuff with them, they trudged off the plane. “Have a nice day you two,” Carol said.

“Oh, we will,” Dean said, slapping Sami on the back. Sami just smiled and nodded at her. They travelled down the sun-warmed jetway and into the terminal.

“We don’t have any events scheduled tonight, right? Bright and early tomorrow?” Dean asked.

“Yep.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Um. Dean?” Sami asked as they stood on a moving sidewalk taking them back to baggage claim.

“Yeah?”

“So dinner and a ghost hunt. You said it was a date. Did you mean like...a date-date? Or just...a date.”

“Sami.” Dean leveled a glance at him. “I’ve been flirting with you the entire plane flight from LAX. What do you think?”

Sami narrowed his eyebrows. “I think you’re kind of an asshole,” Sami said. “But...I like assholes.”

“Is it _that_ kind of date?” Dean asked, grinning.

Sami stuck out his bottom lip in consideration. “Could be.” He laughed. “Depends on how dinner goes.”

Dean threw up a fist in imitation of Sami’s entrance dance and skanked backwards off of the moving sidewalk. “I’ve been practicing!” he said.

Sami considered for a second, and then joined in the dancing. They danced all the way to baggage claim, collapsing into an embrace in front of the carousel, tired, finally here, finally together, deliriously happy, and real.


End file.
